The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies.
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